


Cubed

by Becca (lesbiandiasterbeauregard)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, EVERYTHING IS GREAT, F/F, Fem!Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, Gender or Sex Swap, Mycroft is annoying Sherlock, Rubik's Cube, Rule 63, Sherlock is annoying Joan, fem!john watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 13:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7619485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbiandiasterbeauregard/pseuds/Becca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft leaves Sherlock a gift and Sherlock is slowly driving Joan up the wall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cubed

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY FEMLOCK FRIDAY!!

Joan awoke to the sound of a cat being tortured before the screeching stopped and turned into Vitali’s Chaconne.

Mycroft.

Joan sighs and shoves her hair up in a bun and tugs on a bathrobe. She pads down the stairs and as expected Sherlock is glaring out the window, playing the violin with a disturbing anger and Mycroft is sitting in Joan’s chair looking amused.

“Good morning Doctor Watson, I was wondering when you would wake up.” Mycroft smirks and folds the paper in his lap.

“Piss off.” It’s too early to be dealing with a bigot. “Sherlock what did I say about tissue samples in the percolator?”

She is met by a collision of sixteenth notes at growing volumes. “Tea it is then.”

“Thank you Doctor Watson.”

Three mugs clink on the counter and the kettle rolls to a boil.

“I don’t mean to sound rude Mycroft-” Joan begins.

“Oh Joan please be as rude as you like.” Sherlock spits out finishing the concerto with a flourish and throwing herself down on her chair.

“What are you doing here?” Joan concludes.

Mycroft smirks while taking a sip of his tea, “I have a meeting this morning and Baker Street was on my way.”

“So you came to bother Sherlock?”

“That was an additional perk.” Mycroft replies, “Mummy’s been asking after you sister mine. She wants to have dinner.”

“No.”

“I haven’t even mentioned a date.”

“No.” Sherlock repeats, drawing her knees into her chest and throwing a glare at her brother.

“What a shame. I will leave you to break the news. Well I must be off. Lovely to see you as always Sherlock.” He gives Joan a nod, “Doctor Watson.”

When the door clicks shut Sherlock jumps up and starts shuffling through the papers on her desk. Shuffling is a bit of a generous term. It was closer to throwing papers around.

“Problem Sherlock?”

“Please don’t speak in sentence fragments Joan, you do know how that irritates me.” Sherlock snaps back yanking open drawers and emptying their contents.

Joan takes a sip of her tea watching her flatmate with dry amusement. “Don’t touch my desk.”

“Joan…” She whines in response.

“Pray tell, why are you trying to tear apart our flat?”

“He was all smug when I saw him, more smug than usual. It wasn’t a promotion because he’s already at the top of the British Government where else is there for him to go. He’s done something to bother me, which means he has touched something.”

“Isn’t the Queen at the top of the British Government?”

Sherlock stops her tornado of flying papers to shoot Joan a dry look. “Dear God Joan, that’s absurd. Don’t be an idiot.”

Joan gropes a feel at her armchair as she takes a seat, sure enough in between the cushion and the back there is a small brown bag. Sherlock immediately makes a grab for it and Joan tries to hold it out of reach, “Clean up your mess first.” A scornful look flashes across Sherlock’s pretty face before her collected mask is back on. The flat is returned to it’s disorganized state, a minor improvement on how Sherlock had left it.

Sherlock makes grabby hands at the bag and Joan tosses it over with a resigned sigh. “Wait, you open it.”

“Are you joking?”

“It’s from Mycroft, who knows what it could be.” Sherlock makes a face and passes it back to Joan.

Joan twists open the bag and turns it upside down. A colourful block falls into her hand. Sherlock swipes it away.

“A Rubik cube.” Sherlock states. “Why?”

Joan shrugs. “Maybe it’s a challenge. Do you know how to solve it?”

“No, I’ve not seen one before, but I will figure it out.”

_Click. Click. Click. Click._

That was when it started. Sherlock had deleted most of the memories from her childhood. Of course she wouldn’t remember how to solve a Rubik Cube.

For the whole day Sherlock moves around with the cube, trying to solve it. “Joan there are 43,252,003,274,489,856,000 possible combinations that this blasted cube can make, but there is only 1 that will have all six faces have solid colours. Do you have any idea how long it is going to take to be able to get through all of these?”

On the sofa, _click, click_.

In the cab to Scotland Yard, _click, click_.

Sherlock was even working on it at crime scenes. She would tell people what happened and then as she was insulting them work away at the bloody cube.

Joan wakes up from a nightmare early the next morning, covered in sweat and trying to catch her breath. Afghanistan didn’t appear as often anymore, not since The Pool.

Joan scrubs a hand through her hair and lays back down in her bed.

_Click, click, click._

Bloody hell.

Joan sandwiches her ears in between her pillow, but she can still here that damned clicking. “SHERLOCK CAN YOU PUT THAT DAMNED THING AWAY?”

“No, I’m only at combination 23,374,120,047,183 and I still haven’t gotten to solid faces yet.” The calm reply drifts upstairs.

“Oh for the love of God.” Joan throws the covers off and stomps downstairs. Sherlock is sprawled out on the sofa with Rubik’s in between her hands and is staring at it intently.

“Give it here.”

“No, I do not require assistance.”

Joan swipes it out of her hands and sits on the opposite end of the couch. Top, right, reverse top, reverse left, top, reverse right, reverse top, left. The pieces click into their proper places and Joan sits it back into Sherlock’s hand. “There.”

She stands and walks back to her room. “I swear to God Sherlock if I hear anymore clicking tonight I’m dunking it in your hydrochloric acid.”

Footsteps follow her and Sherlock jumps onto her bed after her.

“I don’t understand. You are ordinary, how were you able to solve the cube before me?” Sherlock sits at the foot of the bed scowling at Joan and waving the cube in the air.

“Because I know the algorithms in order to solve it. I learned them when I was a ten, used to impress all of my mates.” Joan replies.

“There is an algorithm?”

“Yes. You’d know if you googled it.”

“That’s cheating!”

“It’s asking for help.”

_Click, click, click, click._

“Solve it again.” Sherlock demands outstretching the cube to Joan.


End file.
